


Call Me By Your Name

by alyssa146



Series: CMBYN [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: A little heartbreak, Angst, Bottom Jared, Call me by your name, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, First Time, Hurt Jared Padalecki, Jared is Elio, Jensen is Oliver, M/M, Older Jensen, Possessive Jensen, Protective Jensen, Smart Jared, Summer Romance, Top Jensen, True Love, Young Jared Padalecki, because unlike the book we are going to end on a bright note!, haven't seen the movie but I just had to do this, made up peach sccene, medical student Jensen, read the book and i am in love, rework, supportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyssa146/pseuds/alyssa146
Summary: It's the summer of 1995 and Jared is in the height of his teenage years when his family gets a young medical student to come stay with them for the summer. Jensen is arrogant and foreign and Jared isn't sure how to feel when his emotions start flying all over the place. He soon realizes that while he thought he knew everything there are some things he knows nothing of.





	1. Summer Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so i just read Call Me By Your Name and I am dying. I just had to give it my own twist with the same plot background of course but with some different aspects. Like a happy ending, sort of. I havent seen the movie yet cause my town sucks :( Enjoy! By the way this is first person which i dont really do but the book is first person so i wanted the same affect.

He came to stay with us the summer of 1995. With his blonde hair, pulsating emerald eyes and pale freckled skin he stood out greatly compared to the other inhabitants of Saint-Tropes France. Every summer since I could remember a summer guest would come stay with my family for the 2 months of July and august making me move from my room to the one across the hall. Mine had the best view my father said. My father would invite scholars, students, doctors, artists anyone with an intellectual mind, someone he could teach. My family welcomed anyone. At a young age my siblings and I learned not only our own language but English, Italian and German. My father said it was to widen our minds. My sister, brother and I well more my sister and I since my brother had went to university and spent most of his summers traveling Europe with some friends “studying” he said. I was 17 had recently sprouted and spent most of my days reading, playing music or listening to my father lecture on the recent events he found astounding. 

He came on a Wednesday. The air was hot outside a classic Mediterranean climate but the house was cool as I sat in the open window in the hall and gaped at the luscious trees outside the window. The earth was calm, no sounds other than waves crashing in the distance and birds chirping in the air when a car rolled down the gravel driveway. I leaned forward as my father walked outside in his classic khaki shorts and a blue polo, his beard no heavy and gray since he decided to grow it out. My mother rushed out behind him and brushed at her flowy tan pants suit and dropped her cigarette on the ground as the green car came to a stop.

I cocked my head in interest as a tall man in a loose button up and green shorts struggled his way out of the car and cracked his neck, his hand going to run through messy blonde hair. He smiled politely as my father shook his hand and took his bags to lead him inside, his hand on the man’s back as he looked around and turned to my mother to ask where I was. I sighed and jumped down from the window and walked down the creaky steps and through the open hallway where my mother met me with a smile, her arm wrapping around my bony shoulder “there you are, come greet our guest darling.”

She pulled at the yellow Tommy Hilfiger shirt I was wearing and smiled as we entered the room and my dad awed “there he is Jared this is Jensen Ackles, our med student for the summer.”

I gulped as I reached for the man’s hand his strong and callous around my still young, smooth hands. He grinned his teeth white and sharp like a canine and for a moment I faltered at the sharp smile and pulled my hand away “nice to meet you.”

My father smiled and came to stand next to me and my mother and rested his hand on my shoulder “you must be exhausted.”

Jensen nodded and smiled again as he crossed his arms “it was a long trip I must say I am a bit tired.”

My father nodded and smiled at me and I stepped forward and took the man’s bag “follow me to your room,” I turned and looked at my parents and gave them a coy look “my room.”

My dad laughed as I led the man upstairs and into the open airy room I usually occupied. The bay doors were open and the summer air drifted through causing the white curtains to float about and Jensen took in a deep breath and smiled “this is marvelous, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“A bedroom?”

He snorted and looked down at me “everything. I’ve never been out of the country; out of my town this is all new to me.”

I bit my lip and looked around “we travel quite a bit…but I’ve never been out of Europe. But I’ve been plenty of places.”

Jensen smiled, the look becoming familiar to me as it seemed to him as I noticed the crinkles by his eyes already there even at the age of 25. “Well I guess you’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

The polite thing to do would be to agree, I wanted to agree I wanted nothing more than to tell the American about the places I’ve seen but certain nervousness overcame me. This man, this adult who had more to do with his time was interested in hearing from me. As the youngest in the family that almost never happened. So I nodded my head quickly and scurried out the door.

At dinner that night I sat next to my sister at the end of the table and Jensen sat across from me. He talked to my father about what he was studying and thanked him again for allowing him to stay and study with him. This was what my father was good at. My father was a professor and studied mainly in human anatomy. 

My mother sipped her wine and nodded along to what my father was saying and while everyone had a turn at talking I wanted in. I started to talk about the latest book I had read. The name I couldn’t remember because that’s who I was. 

Sometimes I talked fast and flustered easily, my mind already holding so much information. I told them about a man and the journey he had gone on to find himself. I told them about how he travelled trying to find God in the clouds, to find him anywhere to get a sign of how to live his life. I told them so much my sister zoned out and my mother puffed out her cigarette and smiled lovingly at me. But as I finished rambling, my face red and me out of breath I could feel him staring at him from across the table. I could tell he had been interested in what I had to say and that gave me a warm feeling inside that someone liked what I spoke about. But when I looked up I wasn’t so sure. His look changed from interest to cold in a second. His green eyes lowering in a blank but cruel stare and I looked away and leaned toward my sister. I wasn’t sure what changed or what I had said to make him look that way but I didn’t like it. 

I should just avoid him. Pay him no mind. He doesn’t exist.

 

I found rather quickly that Jensen’s favorite words were “see ya.”

I didn’t like it. See ya sounded harsh and cruel like you didn’t really mean what you said. See ya seemed to be something you would say to a person you didn’t really like. It wasn’t heartfelt, it wasn’t a goodbye or a hello it was nothing. He said it more times than I could count. 

The first time he said it we were riding our bikes through the town I promised to show him and after riding around for an hour I offered to show him the place I jogged to and he said “not right now…see ya.” And rode off like I wasn’t right next to him, like I hadn’t spent my afternoon showing him around when I could be at home practicing for my piano recital I had in 2 days.

The next time he said it, it was to my whole family. We were at dinner outside on the patio in the cool night air my mother flushed from wine, her one arm around me and the other holding a dangling cigarette. My father was talking to my sister about when she would be leaving to join my brother in Italy so they could both attend a lecture when Jensen stood up dropped his napkin, smiled and said “see ya.”

I watched him walk away with a scowl and I shook my head in disgust “watch,” I said with a frown and a hostile tone in my voice. “When he leaves us I bet he’ll look at us and say see ya,” I mocked with a little wave.  
My sister snorted as she sipped her water and my mother’s grip tightened as she shook her head in amusement “just think you’ve got 2 long months to deal with him.”

My father leaned back in his chair “he is American honestly he might not know any better.”

American or not the summer was turning out to be a slow one .


	2. Stumbled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is french in this chapter, I do not know French what is mentioned i did look up.

With my piano recital only one day away I decided to brush up on my notes. Our house was a 2 story villa with a spacious landscape located not far from the cliffs, down below the ocean. At the back of our house was a willow tree with hanging limbs I would sit in and play guitar and near it was the outside sunroom filled with books, paintings, and statues, and a grand white piano.

The afternoon was especially hot so I sat down on the white bench in just loose swim shorts that came just above my knees, my shirt abandoned somewhere in the backyard after lying in the sun. I closed my eyes and let Bach run from my fingertips my work somewhat harsh yet graceful as I moved my body along with the notes, the music running through my soul almost connected. That’s what I loved most about music. No matter who you were or what you played music lived in people, it connected everyone body and soul.

I slid my fingers down the keyboard and ended with a quiet tap on the last key and leaned back and looked up to see Jensen leaning against the open door, shirtless. His chest was wider than mine, his arms thick and his shoulders broad. I noticed his chest was even freckled. His patterned swim shorts didn’t cover the bowed legs I hadn’t noticed before and I realized that’s why he walked the way he did.

“Play it again.”

I looked up and blushed as I realized I had been staring “again?”

“Yes. What you just played.”

I pursed my lips and turned back to the piano. I did play what I had before but with more of a kick into eh keys as I banged harder than usually and moved the key notes around and I ended with a hard it at the deep key and Jensen made a face. “That wasn’t the same, what did you do?”

“I gave it a personal touch.”

“I wanted you to play Bach normally.”

“Can you play Bach normal though? Honestly Bach had a creative mind sure but he left the music to us so we could make it our own besides who knows if it was Bach that even wrote that.”

Jensen rolled his eyes and turned away from me and I knew we had once again rolled back into the limbo of our relationship. He had only been here a week and still I couldn’t figure out how he saw me. Sometimes when he smiled it was genuine and kind and I couldn’t imagine anyone nicer than him. But then there were times his smile wasn’t true. It was fake and unfriendly and filled with resentment and made me shiver and turn from him and he had noticed more than once.

He had done it once, one evening out by the pool while I read from my father’s latest book on human anatomy and how it connected to love. I was so immersed in the book I hadn’t realized Jensen had been staring. But when I looked at him his look changed. It darkened and his smile was bland and I turned away and got up to retreat to my father’s study. He must have noticed my uneasiness because he tried to smooth it over with questions. He had started asking me where I visited. And while the topic would usually get me rumbling with descriptions I just couldn’t. So I ducked my head, my shaggy wavy hair falling over my eyes and mumbled an excuse and scrambled inside to my father.

 

The night of my recital my family attended, even my brother had come home to watch me play. Because I had a private tutor the recital was held at our villa in the formal room we only used to parties and special occasions. Some of my father’s colleagues attended, his friends and lawyers, any scholars that he knew. And Jensen. 

I played Bach smooth a graceful just like Jensen had wanted on that hot afternoon and I could tell he was pleased. I flipped to the back of the book to the song I had written and laid my hands gently on the keyboard and poured my body into the music. The words in my head flowed onto the keyboard, my hands moving with the rhythm inside my head as I tipped my head back and imagined myself singing to the lyrics I kept for myself. When I was done I slowly turned to the crowd who clapped joyously all smiles and nice words. 

Jensen stood in the back his eyes holding something mysterious I couldn’t quite decipher... I think it was something between satisfaction and awe.

My brother was the first to come to me his strong arms wrapping me up and swinging me around he sat me down and ruffled my hair “kiddo you get better every time I see you.”

I smiled and let him whirl me around before my mother pulled me in her warm arms and pressed a kiss to my cheek “beau mon chéri juste beau.” 

My father held his arms out and placed one hand on my neck and smiled at me “magnifique mon fils!” he kissed my cheeks and held me close as his colleagues all came by to give their sentiments but it bored my quickly.

I noticed Jensen dawdling along the back of the room near the refreshments and I broke free from my father and made my way to him. He smiled at me as I poured myself some water “you were quite a star up there see I knew you could play the song right.”

I shook my head and smiled “some of us have taste, young taste.”

Jensen’s smiled dropped and I realized I did it again. What it was I wasn’t sure. But he cleared his throat and pointed “I think your father wants me, excuse me Jared.”

I watched him leave and cursed myself and tossed the empty cup on the table with a sigh. My brother threw his arm around my shoulder, his color blocked shirt brushing against my white button up and he shook his head “he is too old for you.”

I gave him a look “there’s nothing to be too old for.”

He shakes his head and smiles so much like my father I forget who I’m talking to he pushes me to the crowd where my father is talking to Jensen and I try to push back but my brother is stronger and he sets me solid his hands on my shoulders as I stand next to Jensen.

“Tomorrow I’m going down to Pampelonne to look through some statues found in the ocean and try to decipher them would you like to attend?”  
Jensen nods and smiles “of course sir that would be very helpful.”

My father turns to me now and grins “and you chéri? I know how much you love hunting for treasure and maybe when were done will try to fit the pieces together.”

I smiled at my father’s enthusiasm and agreed to go with him and he pulled me out of my brothers arms “formidable! Tomorrow your brother and your sister will return to Italy and we will go on our own adventure .”


	3. Counting Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Treve: truce  
>  Ne me fais pas papa je t’en supplie. no papa please dont make me
> 
> stupide homme américain. Avec ses cheveux mouillés et ses beaux yeux si stupides ! : pretty much means stupid american with goofy hair and nice eyes 
> 
> Honestly I am probably not always going to translate the french i use in chapters and you might have to look them up

The next morning my brother and sister left bright and early and so did we. We rode in my father’s tight 1995 jeep Cherokee, Jensen’s legs brushing mine over and over again making me tremble and hold my breath.

My father’s team members were waiting for us on the empty beach and I jumped out eagerly and rushed over as my father held up and broken arm from the sand and held it out to Jensen who took it hesitantly as my father moved onto the boat waiting to take us out.

I smiled as Jensen looked the stone arm over and I moved forward and held my hand out and he looked up before getting the idea and smiling as he held the arm out to shake my hand “trêve?”

He frowned to himself as he thought through the word and then his face softened and he nodded with a familiar smile as I glided past him to the boat and waved him to follow.

We rode the boat to the middle where the water was clear and I leaned over next to Jensen as bubbles emerged from the blue water and two men held a statue up of a woman and I grinned bright as my father smoothed his hands down the wet rock “beau isn’t it?” I nodded in agreement and leaned my head on his shoulder as we stared at the cracked rock of the woman before us, her eyes holding in sorrow.

 

When we got back home my father led us to the study and flicked on the projector already filled with slides of the statues we found and the stories behind them. I could tell Jensen was a little confused as my father dove into his passion, telling us about the love the woman we had found endured, how she was broken because she was left, because she had loved too much.

“But how do you know this? How do you know any of this?” Jensen asked looking at me with a wild look.

My father took his glasses off and dusted them as he spoke “this is how it goes. Everyone’s got a bone to pick; we ascend from the dust already throbbing with need and longing. When God made dinosaurs he said let’s see what teeth can do, let’s see what asteroids can do. How it goes is every story was made to be destroyed. Blood knows the dark of our bodies intimately and somehow it flourishes.”

I took a deep breath as my father finished his lecture and turned to look at Jensen with a newfound meaning. He looked back with a deep look in his eyes, the green sparkling brighter like he understood something I didn’t. But I guess I did to. 

And that’s when it hit me.

We flirt all the time and smile and laugh. But how am I supposed to know if this is real? I can’t control my feelings anymore. It’s so hard being around him with his freckled calloused skin spent years from working and his intellectual mind and sharp smile. I try to act casual but all I can seem to do is get memorized in your eyes.

Does he know? Does he feel it to? Or are those hostile looks and deep piercing eyes real?

He asked me what there is to do besides reading and playing music and I told him dancing. At nights down the cobble streets of Saint Tropes lights dim and music blares as everyone gathers and dances and laughs.

He asked me to go.

He followed me down the streets his body close to mine as we found the hidden dancefloor above the sandy beach the lights hanging and soft music playing.

I watched as he danced to a song I’m sure he didn’t know. His feet moving in his tennis shoes as he backed down the dance floor, the moonlight shining down on him and I observed. I looked around as no one else seemed to notice him by himself in the center of the floor and he noticed no one else. Couples moved closer their bodies molding together in the heat almost like one and I longed for it.

The music turned to Time after Time and I watched all the boys and girls find one another quickly as the music slowed down and for the first time Jensen noticed where he was. He looked around cluelessly before his eyes settled on mine and he smiled. He held his arm out and pointed me forward with his finger and I moved like I was getting pulled and went willingly into his arms.

He pulled me close his hands smoothing down my arms and pulled them up to wrap around his neck before his own enclosed around my thin waist and he held me tight, taking my breath from me and breathing it for his own. We swayed together his hips pressed against mine his body becoming one with mine. 

I let out a gasp and he closed his eyes as he sucked it in. My knees weakened and jumbled and he pulled me closer and lifted me up slightly so he held me fully in his arms. When the music heightened so did Jensen and when it slowed so did we. He brought one hand up my back and held the base of my neck and tangled his fingers in my hair and dipped me back and for a second I forgot where I was. No one was near the music was dim and it was just us.

But then the song ended and he pulled back and we stood staring at each other before he moved off into the crowd with a see ya over his shoulder and I couldn’t find it in myself to move. Others moved in front of me dancing around my corpse like body as I tried to spot Jensen but it seemed he had left me there with nothing more than a see ya.

 

He called the house early the next morning asking for a ride… from a girl’s house. My father hummed to himself and nodded as he spoke to him on the phone and I tried to sip my juice in hopes of not being chosen to retrieve him.

But when he put the phone down he sighed and looked at me “Jared do you mind fetching Mr. Ackles? It seems he is stuck and it’s too far to walk.”

I sighed “he shouldn’t have left me last night then. Ne me fais pas papa je t’en supplie.”

My father sighed and gave me a look and I stood and threw my napkin down as my mother reached for me and left as I shook her off.

This would be a nightmare. Last night I thought we had hit a revelation, a new ground between us when he held me close in his arms, when he made me feel like the only one only for him to leave me alone and go home with a girl.

I pulled up to the small villa and got out to get fresh air and he was walking out next to a small brown haired girl with a slender figure and kind eyes. She smiled up at him and he leaned down and kissed her cheek and waved her off as he came over to climb in the car and looked at me once before getting in. 

I swallowed down my emotions and stomped my foot on the gravel and got in the car mumbling so fast I knew he couldn’t understand me as I back peddled out of the drive way “stupide homme américain. Avec ses cheveux mouillés et ses beaux yeux si stupides ! 

He looked at me with wide eyes as we pulled up to my house and I slammed the door and gave him a nasty look over my shoulder as I stomped inside the house with a loud huff. I know i was acting like a child but at the moment I couldn’t find it in myself to give a damn .


	4. Heaven

I became conscious of the fact I was falling for Jensen late one afternoon as he sat out back in the yard surrounded by my mother’s blossoms and the cicadas that roamed the sky a book open in his hands.  
My mother always told me eyes were the window to the soul. His eyes were green, like the grass beneath my feet, when we talked I couldn’t help but get lost in them. Some nights I would ask myself if I was in love with him or if he was drowning me in those unfathomable irises.

The sun had gone down when I headed out back to grab him for dinner. He was lounging on my father’s hammock he almost never used and staring at what seemed to be nothing but I knew he saw something I didn’t. He had his hands behind his head and swung along to the waves crashing against the cliffs in the distance. When he turned to look at me I knew I was in trouble. I looked into his eyes and noticed how they glistened in the moonlight; they were filled with content as they looked at me. They were mysterious and the depth of darkness in his eyes made me want to fall into them and find all the riddles they were holding. His eyes were so profound they held secrets only he knew. And I wanted to drown in him.

He dropped a cigarette I hadn’t noticed he was holding and blew a ring of smoke my way and I felt it wrap around me and disappear somewhere inside my soul. Constricted, forever in his hold I knew I would be with just that tiny smoke ring and I didn’t want to change a thing about it.

He got up and ambled toward me, his stance intimidating and suffocating as he towered over me. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes and I felt myself buckle under his gaze causing his now tan arms to reach out and grab me, his rough hands holding my hips to him so he could hold me steady and I felt like I was falling still. 

And then like he was burned his moved his hands and backed from me stepping even more in the moonlight and at that moment I hated him. I was drained. I had never felt real love, I was young and hadn’t yet explored the passions of the human body or what it meant to give myself to a person but I knew this dance we were doing wasn’t fair. I was tired of the flirting, of the mind games and the aloof looks I would get when he changed his mind. 

My philosophy teacher once said that if someone stares at you openly, it means they think you are good-looking. But if someone stares at you when you’re not looking it means they are in love with you. Maybe that’s why people fall for the wrong person, why they hold back and don’t give themselves over because the ones in secret are hiding back.

I didn’t want that to be me.

I shook my head and turned my back to him and took in a deep breath as I moved away from him like I could finally breathe and I realized he had taken all the air from me. Is that what love was? Not being able to breathe? Of feeling like your world was spinning and nothing not even he could stop it?

 

“We are always captivated with stories of vampires and werewolves falling in love with humans, or with Hades falling in love with Persephone, or with a fallen angel falling in love with the most average girl; maybe because deep in our hearts we trust that love is both a weakness and strength. That even the darkest of the darkest of us can still get frail in the knees with love, that even amongst inhuman strengths, amidst problems, and darkness, and strife, love could still get in. that love, and only love could both weaken someone and at the same time be with driving force of their life. That it was always love, it is always love, and will always be love and every change always starts with love. Because that’s how the light gets in.”

Jensen let out a deep breath as my father finished his lecture and I bowed my head away from the view of his adams apple bobbing as he gulped at the finish. Like he understood everything my father was telling him and I knew that wasn’t true. Because if it was, if he truly did understood than why were we here?

I stood up and sat my book down as I looked out the bay window to see the sun going down “I’m going out I’ll be back before midnight.”

My father nodded his head and kissed my temple as I passed by him my eyes straight ahead as I stepped over Jensen’s sprawled out legs, his sneaker covered shoe reaching up for a moment to brush against my leg making me trip at the touch. I shot out of the house and hopped on my bike sending one look back toward the window in my father’s study to see Jensen leaning out of it with questioning eyes.

I gasped and slammed my foot down and started down the gravel road till I made it to the cobble stone streets and rode down to the beach where I dropped my bike and ripped my shirt off and waded into the waiting ocean.

I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and held my arms out as I fell back into the water, letting the wave’s crash over me. As the tide pulled against my body I felt all my emotions come out with it. I held my breath as long as I could and opened my eyes in the salty water now used to the burn and let out a scream and watched as the bubbles rose to the surface.

The water filled my lungs and my vision became blurry when I finally broke through the surface my hair flipping back against my neck as I took in a gulping lungful of air and sunk back down in the water.

I lay on my back and floated on the gentle water and looked up at the starry sky. How was it they seemed so far away? Was it because God wouldn’t let them touch land? How would it feel to float in the heavens?

At the sound of breaking water I sat up and watched as Jensen waded in next to me. I dropped my gaze as he turned to me and felt the fight leaving me as he ducked under and stood back up and shook his head, the water hitting me and now slid down both our faces. 

And suddenly, while we stared at each other under the bright moonlight and the water pouring down our faces I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted more, I wanted more than just looks and brushes of arms and legs and the stupid never-ending flirting. I wanted to taste his lips and his neck and his cheeks and everything. I wanted to run my hand through his hair and feel the electricity of love flash through me as I have read in all the books my whole life. I wanted to pull him in and never let him go.

“Kiss me,” he whispered and that was all it took for me to fling myself at him and kiss him like every fiber of my being was dying and he was my medicine. And oh did it feel like it, because unexpectedly I was more alive, I felt stronger, happier, and I felt at home. His arms felt like home as they held me close in the warm water and I never wanted to leave again .


	5. To Speak

A game started between the two of us, a game I longed to play at all hours of the day. During the day we would lay out by the pool our bodies swirling around one another and at night we lay wrapped up in each other’s arms in the safety of my bedroom where only the moon could see us.

My parents watched us with secret smiles and I knew there was no avoiding it but still Jensen tried. Behind closed doors it was heated passion, swallowing one another like air. In the open it was veiled smiles and lidden eyes that gave me fever.

The sun was high in the sky in the early afternoon as we sat under the peach trees in the cool shade, the grass tickling my skin as I turned to him. He was gazing into the open field, his eyes filled with awe as he turned to look at me and he smiled. I reached my hand out and stroked his scruffy cheek and longed for the burn against my body. He pressed his soft lips to my palm and then heat overwhelmed me. I threw my legs over him and dug my fingers in his hair and pressed myself against him as I devoured his mouth, his own just as frenzied. His calloused hands moved down my bare spine making my skin tingle as he pulled back my lips falling to his neck and sucking the freckled skin there. He tightened his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back and pressed a kiss to my lips before closing his eyes ending the thirst that was wracking my body like a waterfall.

I watched his mouth fall open with a sigh as I ran my fingers over his cheeks and I faltered. “I don’t deserve you,” I whispered, pushing his knotted hair back.

His face curved in a frown and I hated it at once “how dare you say that,” he countered breathlessly, never opening his sea green eyes.

“I don’t. You’re so amazing and someone like me doesn’t deserve someone like you.” His grip tensed around my waist and I moved down and rubbed my cheeks against his arm. His to pure, not fit for my wanting mind and pining body that hadn’t yet touched another, not fit to love me. Yet I knew I had already fallen in love with him and it terrified me.

 

He kept his hands to himself, never letting them stray below my waist and I was going mad with hunger. My body craved his touch; whatever I could get I would take if it would satisfy me. He teased with light touches down my neck his lips following as though consumed. My thighs quivered with plea as the moon shone down on us, my hands reaching for his shirt, pulling it off and falling against him as his skin was revealed. He smiled and kissed my head “sleep.”

Oh but I couldn’t, I couldn’t sleep not when my body was on fire and I told him so. He groaned like he was in pain and trailed his hand down my back and held it right above my backside and I pushed back to move him lower “I would love nothing more than to take your body for my own and feed your aching desire but I struggle to. My love you are perfect. Your body is young and soft not yet tainted by wandering hands, you pump with desire when you are ready I will be the first one to take you I swear it.”

The next morning I was lying strewn across my parents. My head in my mothers lap, her hand gently caressing my hair and my father holding my waist as my mother read from her book her words soothing me like they always did when I was distressed.

“The princess fell in love with the knight she yearned for him day and night but could not find the courage to confess her love. Till one day she asked… is it better to speak or to die?”

I dropped my head and grabbed my fathers hand, stroking the veins there and gulped “I don’t think I could ever ask a question like that.”

My father smiled and looked at my mother “you’ll be surprised at what you would do for love.”

I opened my mouth to reply, what I didn’t know, as Jensen walked in his hands tucked in his baggy shorts and looked us over and then announced the words that stung “I think I'm going to travel to Nice. There are some museums I would like to check out, help along my research. I’ll be back before its time to head home.”

The air left my body and my heart plummeted inside my chest as I slowly sat up from my parents my mother’s hand trailing down my shoulder. How I was still alive I wasn’t sure. I had never felt pains like this and felt for sure my heart would explode.

And then he looked at me. His eyes were pleading, questioning almost nervous. I let out a winded gasp and looked at my parents who nodded in acceptance and I was overwhelmed with my love for them. I stood up and took his hand in mine “let me come with you, don’t let me go not yet.”

Those green eyes sparked with happiness, his big hands framing my cheeks as he pressed his nose to mine like my parents weren’t there, like the waves of the peach trees were off in the distance and we shared a breath “I’ll never let you go.”

I knew that wasn’t true, that our time was limited as it always was but I didn’t say anything.

With a month left we decided to travel. We stopped in Nice and wondered down the sandy beaches with stars in our eyes. We went to Bordeaux and skipped through the gothic cathedral and flourished in the gardens and I swore Jensen was God to which he laughed. We travelled on train to Annecy down the winding canals and past colorful houses and I swooned as Jensen kissed me on top of Semnoz where I was sure I could touch Heaven.

We ended up in Paris. He smiled as we entered, took me in his arms and pressed our lips in a light touch ignoring the stares of people that past by “the City of love.” He whispered against my lips like we were sharing a secret no one else could know.

I smiled and rubbed at the nape of his neck and pressed myself tighter, trying to loose myself in his embrace “the City of love,” I mumbled back hoping he would keep my secret as his own.


	6. Borrowed Time

We lay in bed for hours the next morning before visiting the Eiffel Tower where I felt like flying. I spread my arms out and closed my eyes as I leaned over the railing and the wind flowed through me and I knew this was the closest I would ever get to being truly free.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, lips pressed to my ear “where are we going?”

I took a breath and leaned back in those faithful arms “Heaven,” I whispered.

Dancing it seemed would make a reoccurring theme in our relationship.

Somehow we found ourselves down a dark alley that led to a small hole where music was booming and smoke was clouding and I watched as Jensen breathed it all in. I let him lead me through the crowded room, bodies pressed to close together almost like they were making love on the dancefloor and I blushed at the thought.

He smiled at me and passed one to many drinks but I swallowed them down as his eyes bore into mine before leading me on the floor where I pressed myself against him and tried to bury myself in his body.

My body was over heated and my skin felt sweaty as I rubbed my cheek against the soft material of his shirt. I knew I looked feral, completely untamed as I rubbed myself against him in any other time I would have flushed but even drunk I was caught off guard by the way I remained intoxicated by him.

His thumbs stroked down my face and gently pulled at my bottom lip and I whined at the touch and he smiled. The age shown through as I molded myself to him and he held onto the self-control I never had. 

He took my hand and pulled me from the club till we were on the bare streets of Paris spinning each other around down the cobblestone streets, laughing into the cool summer night air like we weren’t on borrowed time.

He spun me around till I grew dizzy and rushed down the stone steps emptying my stomach over the side of the wall, his hands rubbing against my knobby spine in an attempt to soothe me. His hands moved down to my face and he lifted me up and wiped my mouth and I thought how beautiful it was that even in this state, with the stench of my breath he still smiled and took my hand and gently led me down the street under the bridge where shadows held us.

He moved his back to the cool wall and smiled fondly as I stared at him with an open mouth, my head spinning. He reached one hand out and stroked my cheek and I stepped closer “kiss me like you love me,” he slurred my face between his large hands, his thumb circling on my cheek, his eyes pleading and begging for something I couldn’t quite figure out. And it suddenly felt like I was holding his life in my palm and I was both his savior and destruction and I could crush him with just one word, kill him, stab him, and he would still love me.”

“I can’t,” I breathed. The pain that crossed his eyes shot directly in my heart and made my head hurt.

I stepped closer and pressed our lips together “I can’t, because I already do.”

He smiled against my lips, a relieved sort of smile and I could tell as he mumbled under his breath he was thanking God.

I'm not quite sure how but somehow, whether he carried me or not we ended up back in our hotel room, the bay doors open and the air flowing in relieving me of my body heat. He shut the door and laid me on the bed with such tenderness I wanted to cry.

He crawled over me as if to kiss me but paused and bit his lip “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me. I want you Jared.”

My body trembled and I curved up into nothing as he whispered my name and I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I watched the soft ripple of his supple back muscles as his body collided with mine. I loved the sound of clashing teeth, of breathless, desperate moans that besought for love in a way that words never could. I will never forget the pain that came as he pushed inside me like he was made to be there, or the tears that sprung to both our eyes as he moved inside me as if he had been here his whole life. 

His coarse hands as they smoothed down my side till they grabbed ahold of my small wrists and held them above my head, the scruff of his beard as it rubbed against my cheek making me cry with need.

Or the way he groaned, growled with such a deep rumble it had me crying out in desire. It seemed I couldn’t get close enough; I would have devoured him if I could. I wrapped my legs around his waist and clenched and he moaned low in my ear as I got one wrist free to tangle in his hair and move up for a kiss, a kiss that had our tongues dancing together as we were moments ago.

When he came inside me I never wanted to wash it out. He smiled deviously as though he knew what I was thinking and leaned up on his elbow and looked down at my own cum that rested on my belly.

I watched as he trailed his finger down my chest and dipped into the white liquid and held it up to his tongue. My hand snatched out and grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him back but stronger than I am he held me down and tasted me for himself.

I felt tears spring to my eyes and I turned my head, embarrassed at myself. His face softened and he lifted me up and pulled me in his arms, his hands resting on my back as I cried into his shoulder, confused.  
He pressed a kiss to my temple “its ok,” he whispered in the dark and I knew it was.

I leaned back and turned my watery eyes up to him “I don’t want you to go.”

He said nothing, but his eyes said it all.

Like a storm they darkened, filled with pain and grief that I felt in my heart and I let out a sob and threw myself at him.

I knew it was selfish of me to ask this, to beseech with him but my young teenage mind couldn’t be bothered with it.

Besides he didn’t say anything anyway .


	7. Please Don't Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, y'all are going to kill me with how I will be ending this. So I'm asking you this...how I will be "ending" this story will sort of be open ended and I'm thinking of doing a sequel very shortly after because the book ends in sort of a weird way and I didn't really enjoy it. The movie ends open ended and their already talking about a sequel. I am going to be ending it sort of in the way it is in the movie but with my own sequel. I already have ideas for the sequel and it will probably take place like 3 or 4 years later so Jared will be like 21. Y'all cool with that? Seriously leave a comment.

2 a.m. the safe silence, the shadow of night veiled us. Night had always given me courage, why I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because my face couldn’t be seen, or maybe it was because night had some sort of power within its murky background.

As the laughter flowed through the open window I laid on his chest and played with the light hair covering his chest “let’s go to Cannes tomorrow and lay on the beach all day.”

His hand rubbed down my bare shoulder and he sighed into the night and groaned in my hair “today is tomorrow.”

I paused, my movements stopping as I thought over what he had said. Time moved constantly forever wrapping you in its hold, tempting you with the desires you wanted only to take it away tomorrow.

I knew he could sense my inner turmoil and he pulled me tighter in his embrace and kissed my eyelids as though to soothe me “we should head to your home anyway, I’ll be leaving soon.”

I pushed away from him and sat up, the silk sheets sliding down my naked form and swallowed a sudden bound of cotton forming in my throat. By the time we arrived back in Saint Tropes it would be a matter of days before he would leave me and forget I ever existed.

I remember feeling like I wanted to take everything back from him—my touches, my kisses, my sex, my love, my emotions, my devotion, my time, my vitality, my conversations, my conciliation's, my tears, my efforts, my vulnerability… myself. I hated feeling like when he returned home he would walk around happy and content knowing he was carrying around all of me and I would remain here empty and broken. I just wanted to take it all back all of it but I couldn’t. I’m not sure I even would.

He sat up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders and rested against my back and sighed into my skin like he was imprinting me, making it so even if I wanted I could never forget him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” I whispered with tears in my voice and I didn’t. He could leave right now and I wouldn’t regret a second of our time together no matter how I would feel in the end. I know in this moment that I would rather have my heart broken than not have this. I will love him and forget the consequences I would feel soon, maybe even tomorrow just this once he could have everything.

 

By late afternoon we were back in Saint Tropes. My mother held me in her arms like she could see straight through me, could see the pain I already felt.

Jensen was leaving in 3 days.

He went up to his room, my room, to unpack his dirty clothes so our housekeeper could wash them before his trip and I threw myself at my mother and father.

My mother pulled me in her lap and tangled her fingers in my hair, and my father took my hand and I felt my bottom lip quiver “do you know that feeling where you just don’t know what to do? You feel like your trapped in a black hole and you can’t get out of it no matter how fast you try to run?” I sniffed and turned my head to rub my wet cheek against my mom’s silk shirt “I almost wish we’d never met.”

My mother cooed “L'une des choses les plus difficiles que vous aurez à faire, ma chérie est de pleurer la perte d'une personne qui est encore en vie.”

I let out a sob and gripped my father’s hand tight “Il n'est même pas encore parti et j'ai l'impression d'être en train de mourir. Je ne peux pas faire ce papa.”

My father shared a look with my mom before lifting his hands under my arm pits and moving me to sit up and looked into my watery eyes “my amoureux, I know it seems like the end of the world, that everything is ruined, that the whole earth is in blazes. But remember there are beginning’s in endings, through devastation is life and you have the strength to grow stronger.”

 

That night I waited for him to come to me. Well after midnight, when my eyes turned bleary and sleep slid through my body like a warm blanket he arrived. The dip of the bed alerted me as he lay next to me, his hand coming to my cheek. “Promise you’ll always remember me.” He asked.

I clenched my eyes shut tight “don’t make me promise that.”

He leaned back from me, hurt in his green eyes and his hands shaking “people only ask you to remember them if their planning to leave. If you’re leaving, like I know you are don’t ask me to remember it.”

His face flinched with pain and he leaned up and pulled me with him before we fell on the bed in a tangled mess of wandering limbs, our lips never leaving each other. When my shirt fell away and I lay before him stripped he inhaled, his eyes going wide. I gulped, feeling doubtful and tried to pull the blanket over me but he stopped me.

“No, don’t you dare.”

“Why? What do you see?”

“Your soul.”

I pulled him down tight to me and moved my hand down to his manhood and he groaned in my mouth and moved me away and slipped inside. I wanted to keep him there, to never let him go, to keep him for my own personal selfishness. I wanted to feel him forever, to feel him pushing against me, to feel the wetness of his lips.

Tears leaked from my eyes as he moved within me and he looked concerned by I couldn’t find it in myself to tell him I wasn’t in pain, not by him anyway. He kissed my damp cheeks and groaned against my ear, his hand lifting my leg up as he picked his speed up and I arched my back and let out a long moan.

We finished all too soon and I let out another sob as he came inside, his hands going under my waist and pulling me snugger in his arms his own cries spreading against my neck.

I had prepared myself. I prepared myself for him to leave, for the heartbreak. I prepared myself for when he would find someone else and forget all about me, to fake a smile when my parents would speak of him, to pick up the broken pieces of my heart when he was gone. But even now lying in my bed with the peach trees waving outside my window and his arms around me, his tears mixing with mine I wasn’t ready .


	8. Call me by your name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are going to hate Jensen in this chapter and rightfully so but all will be explained in the sequel! Which i should start uploading either the end of this week or starting the next! 
> 
> PS: So there is not confusion yes in this chapter towards the end Jensen calls Jared Jensen and Jared calls Jensen Jared. Hence the title.  
> also if you noticed i changed the year in the summary to 1995 because it fit better with my time frame and i want the sequel to remain in the 90s because the sequel will be about 3 years later so 1998.

The day came and I couldn’t move. 

I could hear Jensen rumbling around, packing his things and dressing before heading down to breakfast and I could feel the tears well in my eyes.

A knock sounded on the door and it gently opened as Jensen peeked his head in, his eyes red and hair messy “Jared… are you coming down with me?”

I closed my eyes tight and wiped my face “I’ll be down soon.”

But I didn’t want to go. I knew that if I went down there that would mean I was accepting that he was leaving, that I was ok with it and would move on with my life. And we both knew that wasn’t true.

I wanted to tell him he belonged with me. Maybe in another world or lifetime but he did he belonged to me just as I belonged to him.

When I came down for breakfast he was sitting at the end of the table his food untouched before him. I took a seat between him and my mother and took a shaky breath as I sipped my juice and pushed my eggs around on my plate.

He reached his hand over to clutch mine and I paused. I gulped and slid my eyes over to my parents who stood quietly, gave me an encouraging smile and went back inside.

Jensen leaned over and pressed his nose to my cheek and inhaled sharply “call me by your name and I’ll call you by mine.”

A strange filling welled within me as his raspy voice floated against my skin and filled inside my body. I turned my head and sobbed as I threw my arms around him and jumped into his lap, my legs wrapping around him as though to trap him “Jared…Jared, Jared, Jared.”

He shuddered and wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his lips to my temple “Jensen, Jensen, Jensen.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled tight “I thought I had you.”

We drove to the train station in silence, my mother driving behind the wheel her dark hair pulled back loosely at her neck and her dark eyes on me in the rearview mirror as I held onto Jensen.

She stayed in the car once we reached, pausing to hug Jensen briefly and told him to come visit and he smiled respectfully and said he would try.

I walked him inside and we paused at his boarding station and I looked down with wet eyes, his big hand came up to hold my cheek and I keened as I pressed a kiss to his palm. How do you ask the one you love not to go? How do you become selfish? 

Jensen looked around and shook his head before drawing me to him and kissing me for all he was worth. This was a kiss I knew I would never get again even if not from him but from anyone. 

I took a shaky breath and looked up at those poison green eyes as we pulled back and he smiled. His smile was different I noticed from when we first met. The crinkles by his eyes weren’t present and I knew it was forced. He didn’t want to be here anymore than I did so I took a chance “I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I love everything about you. I love your eyes and your freckles even though you hate them. I’m bursting with things I want to say to you, please just… don’t go.”

I gripped his shirt tight in my hands and pulled him closer “please don’t go Jared.”

Jensen closed his eyes and cleared his throat as he turned from me “I have to go, I have a train to catch.”

And then he slipped away, his hands fell from me and the smooth shirt moved from my hands as he stepped back his eyes turning from view. I watched as he hopped on the train, he hesitated and I held my breath.  
But then he glanced over his shoulder once and mouthed his name and disappeared.

I felt like dying, I thought I was dying. It had been months and still his touch was on me as though it was yesterday, his eyes always in my mind.

My father and tangled his fingers in my hair as I lay in bed crying, my cheeks red and my eyes stinging and said “you’re never going to forget him, you’re always going to love the color of his eyes, and you’re going to search for him in someone else. You’re going to have those nights when all the regret and pain comes rushing back you’re going to miss him with all of you. But you’re going to be okay.”

I shook my head and sobbed loudly alerting my mother and calling her into the room as I rolled over on the sheets where Jensen and I had laid and cried desperately trying to hold onto my aching heart.

I just wanted to talk to him one last time. To hear his voice and the way he said see ya, though I loathed it I would give anything to hear it again. I wanted to hear him say he loved me and these last few months had been torture for him as well. I wanted him to say he missed me, and that he wanted to come back. I was ridiculous I knew for feeling this way but I couldn’t let him go.

And then Christmas came and he called.

I hadn’t spoken to him since he left, hadn’t expected to ever again sure that he had forgotten me and the summer we had.

My mother called me to the phone and held it out with a smile and I answered tentatively “hello?”

“Jared.”

I gasped and pressed myself to the phone, holding it tight against my cheek “Jensen?”

He laughed softly and sighed “how are you?”

Is this how it would be? Would we talk like strangers? Pretend our summer never happened?

“Um I’m ok I guess you?”

He paused. He sighed again and I could hear him sit down, his brain turning as he thought of what to say.

“I’m getting married.”

You hear about those moments in the movies, in the books you read. Those heart stopping moments where you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you can’t see and you think that will never happen to me. 

But oh God I felt like fading. I was suffocating I knew it as the receiver slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, his voice drowning around me as he called my name. My body wracked with sobs as I fell to the floor in front of the fire place and cried into the flames as my mother came and wrapped me in her arms, her own tears against my neck.

My father picked up the phone and bid his goodbyes to Jensen, told him now wasn’t a good time and that he hoped he had a wonderful Christmas.

I shook my head and turned in my mother’s arms. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t feel…not anything but pain. Before my father could hang up I jerked the phone from his hand as anger took over me “so that’s it? I’m just some stupid boy who meant nothing to you? You had someone else the whole time?”

I could hear him gulp and shuffling and I felt like cracking. Was she there? Did she know who he was talking to? Did he love her?

“Yes,” he swallowed as if the words were sand paper on his tongue “yes you meant nothing to me, you never did and I shouldn’t have allowed us to happen. It was irresponsible and foolish and I’m sorry Jared.”

I knew he was lying, I could hear it in his voice but that didn’t make it hurt any less as I slammed the phone down and threw it across the room, my screams vibrating off the walls as I ran into the snow outside, the cold winding me up in its arms.

I fell to the ground and cried, my heart grieving and curling up at its end.

“Jared,” I whispered and I wondered if he did the same.


End file.
